I’ve had this feeling before. It happened to me today. I’m sure I’ll have it again. It comes with the territory of being alive. At least for me.
My usual late afternoon dog walk with our Husky mix, Mooka, started off with no surprises. We take the same route every day. It takes us about half an hour, plus or minus, depending on much sniffing Mooka does along the way.
We start from our rural south Salem (Oregon) house, walk along some trails on our property and easements on neighboring properties, then up to the road that leads back to our house.
I was dividing my attention between nature, Mooka, and the typical meanderings of my mind. Until… I had the familiar intuition, insight, revelation, or whatever it might be called.
When I die, all this will go away, so I’d better pay damn close attention to it now, because every moment of life is precious when viewed in the light of eventually eternal non-life.
Those words weren’t present in my mind. I’m trying to describe the wordless sensation. It wasn’t pleasant. It wasn’t unpleasant. It simply felt like a recognition of reality that, as the saying goes, is what it is.
A truth that occasionally arises in my consciousness akin to suddenly remembering a forgotten fact, or the name of the person that couldn’t be recalled until it popped out of the depths of my unconscious.
On the dog walk it didn’t take long before the wordless sensation of how precious life is began to fade. Then I began to think about what I’d just experienced, planning how to describe it in this blog post. Some photos seemed desirable, since what had struck me most strongly was that I wanted to pay more attention to the precious world outside of my head, and less attention to the precious world inside of my head.
Why? Hard to say. Maybe because I find the outside world more interesting. Today, even with the fading of my micro-satori, the familiar sight of trees, copious fallen leaves, fallen branches, a neighbor’s fence line — all that took on a different feel after the realization hit me that one day it, and everything else, will vanish into darkness with my last breath and final heartbeat.
I didn’t feel that what I was experiencing on the dog walk was more or less important than, say, the Grand Canyon, Eiffel Tower, a coral reef, or geese honking as they journey somewhere else. That included Mooka eating grass. For it had struck me that when contrasted to the utter finality of death (in my considered atheist opinion), everything in life, almost without exception, is precious beyond compare.
I said “almost” because sometimes life can be so painful, death is welcomed.
I can’t recall if I’ve ever mentioned this, but quite a few years ago a regular commenter on this blog, someone who shared interesting, thoughtful observations, emailed me with a personal story that shook me to my core. He said that for a long time he’d been in excruciating pain that couldn’t be relieved. So he’d decided to commit suicide.
Initially I felt like I needed to do something. I can’t remember if I replied to his message. I believe I did. But it wasn’t to talk him out of killing himself, because my wife and I have talked about this a lot, and we believe that when life truly isn’t worth living, people have a right to die on their own terms rather than waiting for death to come after a lot of suffering.
Anyway, I didn’t know where he lived. I didn’t have his full name. There was no way for me to contact local authorities even if I had wanted to. Which I didn’t. Yes, life is precious. For most of us. But it may not always be precious for me, or for anybody else, really. That depends on how our life unfolds. How much pain and suffering we are able and willing to endure should that come our way.
Currently I’m enjoying life. Returning to our house from the dog walk,, I felt the familiar sense of coming home a a bit more intensely, given what I’d felt about the preciousness of life. We’ve lived here for 35 years. We’ve put an amazing amount of work into maintaining and improving our ten acres.
Those twin fir trees next to the many-trunked oak on the left side of our driveway were really small when we bought the house. Now they’re gigantic rising far above the top of the photo. That’s the nature of life: growth. But so is something else: death. Both are indisputable facts. I’m grateful for those unexpected moments when I’m able to appreciate that death is what makes life so precious.
So I need to appreciate that gift of life while I still possess it. Not frantically. Not rushing to check off items on a Bucket List. Just appreciative. That’s my atheist blessing.
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The first photo here says it all as far as I’m concerned. There are fallen trees covered in moss and ferns, leaf litter on the ground with green plants and (looks like) seedlings growing from the humus-rich ground with fresh leaf litter rotting to provide more nutrients.
Obviously, as sentient beings, we are programmed to avoid physical injury and death, though as mentally advanced primates, we are also programmed to avoid psychological death, or rather, programmed to maintain an illusory self or the ‘idea’ of what appears to be ‘me’.
Other creatures do not ‘fear’ death; it’s more that their whole physical organism, which can exhibit a cascade of physiological responses designed to prepare the body for fight or flight. is geared towards instinctive survival. It’s only we humans who likewise have the same responses, yet also have the mental capacity to abstractedly think about death and allow it to influence our thinking and behaviour – and fears.
To maintain what we believe to be ‘me’, we obsessively invent ideas, beliefs and abstract thinking patterns to convince ourselves of our (self) importance and immortality in some way. Death is a part of life – although we habitually try to separate them. There is birth and death, though as I see it life – not my life – but the ever-continuing structures of life, will happily go on without ‘me’.
Nothing what a crow is, has, does, knows is of his making .. NOTHING
The notion of “me” .. being a separation from the environment is part of the inborn structure. Without it an sentient being would and could not survive.
“me” etc is just as legs, and eyes .. like everything else a tool even mystics and masters cannot distance themselves from it.
The whole palaver of the ego is related to the meaning and value that is attributed to this tool in this or that culture, religio, philosophy
Um. What do you feel about life being precious and the inevitably of death from an atheist point of view – or rather from the perspective of one who does not entertain an ‘after-life’?
@ Ron
I do not know what to answer Ron.
What have I to say to another person about the way he is feeling about anything?!
And the way I personal deal with death how can that be of meaning and value for another person?
When a person with whom I walked this path of live leaves that path, he or she is no longer there, and that can be disruptieve, but the feelings I had for these persons, do not depart with them leaving this path of life … these feelings are as strong and alive as before. … the “object” or “the subject these feelings is no longer there ….So … if one of my parents, or brothers etc would knock at my door, would not be surprised at all .. I would just ask them .. my goodness where have you been all that time … sit down and let us have coffee.
Only OTHERS are born and die because THAT is what I have seen etc but my own birth and dearth is an empty concept …
I just do not know what to say …. whatever exists is an wonder by itself .. what does it matter if I say that it is precious?!
Thanks Um, nicely put. I do find death a pertinent subject – not very often talked about though. A good post from Brian.
@ Ron E.
I had no intention to write other things about this subject but the word “pertinent subject” remains lingering in my mind.
If you feel like, do spend some additional words to
Loved the tone of this post of yours, Brian. Very meditative, contemplative, …I don’t know, very …Zen?
That’s precious indeed, that feeling.
And yes, the photographs, they just as eloquently express what you want to convey here as your words.
I’d venture to suggest that it is the …awareness, that is key here, rather than whether one’s attention is focused within or without. …I’ve myself spontaneously felt similar, quite a few times. When it happens spontaneously, it happens spontaneously: but other than that, I’ve most …most reliably had this feeling during meditation retreats, specifically during walks after meditation session proper. It’s …beyond words, that sense of … of perfectness, of …well, any words one thinks of seem inadequate, although doubtless someone with a better grasp of words might fare better than me—as indeed you have, yourself.
I’d further venture to say that the awareness of mortality per se isn’t really necessary to bring this state of awareness about. (Nor the atheistic part of it, really, at least in my experience, and in my subjective understanding—it’s more a question of awareness, awareness generally and not linked to anything specific, …although I don’t know that “awareness” per se is necessarily the right word I’m looking for here, but maybe you’ll get what I’m driving at here?) …Although certainly it is one of the factors that sometimes helps usher it in, the awareness-of-mortality thing specifically, and in that sense mortality specifically, and in saying this too I speak from felt experience.
———-
No, you haven’t spoken here before about this regular commenter whom you mention here. Or at least, I haven’t seen you do that.
I appreciate your compassionate and empathic approach to the man’s condition and his state of mind, and your complete absence of sanctimoniousness. Your tone suggests, and indeed your bringing him up like this suggests, that he isn’t among those that we see here these days, commenting: I do hope that it all worked out well for him, and that he was able to find peace and comfort, in whatever form might have been best for him.
As for the suicidal secret commenter,…..we should never ignore what they think , about any thing we have posted , that they have read, or think about us. But when some one emails us, that they are suicidal, I would imagine , none of us would , on the spot, have instant answers, or ability, to have much impact on stopping them from doing what they have already planned to do.
I have been in that situation, but I knew the prior conditions that set a middle aged female off, who posted on line that she was suicidal, after finding out her husband had been cheating on her , with a girl friend 10 years younger than her. ( Age old story!) with out going in to any more personal detail, I convinced her to go to the Emergency Room , and seek help. She imagined her life was all over, because she had put the burden of her happiness on her cheating husband. Any way, she went to E.R. , and a Counselor heard her story, and prescribed temporary psychotic Meds, that lightened her burden, until she regained her rational mind. Almost immediately, a man she met on her local walking trail, who was a class mate from Eliminatory School, told her he had always had a crush on her, but she never noticed him. Long story short, she divorced her cheating husband, and married her Walking partner, 3 years ago, and they have been living happily together since, with 6 cats, still walking the same trail together.
Moral of the story, no one, none of us, knows when we no longer have any thing more to live for, no matter how old we are. When I left California at age 69, and moved to Virginia, I was worn out, and beat down from battling life, which had digressed to what looked like a lost battle. I was hoping to die, but in my sleep, not by suicide. I couldn’t think of any thing left to live for, as I imagined, I had done it all. But after getting settled in our apartment, we took a cruise to Alaska, which hooked us in to 27 more Cruises, and touring 75 different countries with their major cities, including India, Nepal, Bhutan, and Tibet! All in 7 years! In between cruises, I bought a Harley, plus 3 Can-Am Trikes, logging 130,000 miles on 3 Trikes and 32,000 miles on my Harley! And being only 2 months short of age 84,…..and still riding my Harley, and pushing Hot Buttons here and there, on forums, I’m not ready to call it quits and check out yet.
As long as we able to endure the seemingly increasing aches and pains of aging, life above ground always has our next surprise or adventure ahead of us, ready to be released as long as we keep on keeping on!
The Photos are beautiful and remind me of my folks’ place on Salt Spring Island, off the coast of British Columbia. They moved from LA when I graduated High School, built several sequential homes and live there for 30 years. They became part of the community, with friends and neighbors always in the house, or Dad and Terra going to events, preparing events at the local lodge, the local community center, the local high school and elementary school. Summers were spent there, and Christmas too, when we could get there.
We grew up in that natural setting, just as Dad and Terra (my step mom) grew older, and eventually passed away. But they live in us, in every effort to bring the family together, in every spreadsheet calculation, in every line drawn on a plan, every recipe planned and cooked and fed to family and friends.
Death is a moment by moment thing. Whenever we forget something important, we realize that our very identity is inextricably tied to memory and sensation. But it is in quiet observation of life around us, beautiful or ugly or any flavor in between, that we realize we, as observers, as sentient and aware, are actually much more than our past associations. And it is just all this before us, and within us.
When we learn to put those old memories and worries aside, the world around us grows. Then we see not simply with our blinkered eyes, but with the eyes that compassion has given us, the eyes of our dog, of our children, neighbors, even the eyes of strangers far away. How can anyone be a stranger, or a foreigner then?
That is what spirituality does. And death becomes meaningless then, because we are much more than this tiny persona. And so much more is going on than even what these eyes, this nose and ears and hands report. No opinion can capture it. No memory does it justice. And therein is the beauty, and the immortality of life itself, that we can participate in as we leave the old recordings behind.
So bleak.
Sant 64
Rainy and overcast days are also wonderful. God giving the earth a warm blanket and feeding all things. Days to stay in, feel his presence, meditate, bake bread or cookies.